The Princess and the Pirate
by whiitetuliip
Summary: A Beauty and the Beast Captain Swan AU • Princess Emma, who has lived on the run for years, ends up a prisoner on the Jolly Roger. There she meets the ship's captain, a man she knows only as Hook, who plans to use her as a bargaining chip. As the days go by, Emma slowly grows closer to the captain. And before she knows it, this beauty might find the man behind the beast.
1. In the Brig

Darkness. It swelled around me as the door slammed, caging me in the ship's brig. The only immediate source of light came from the cracks where the ship's planks didn't quite meet. A torch flickered somewhere across the hold but it was too far to be of any use to me.

A single sliver of light shone on my face as I attempted to regard what I assumed would be my home for the next several weeks.

Water lapped at my ankles as the boat steadily rocked. I kept one hand firmly on the iron bars surrounding me, trying to keep myself upright as the ocean's sway threatened to make me tumble.

We hadn't even set out to sea and already I could feel my stomach turn. What would happen when the boat left the harbor?

But that was a question best saved. For now, the present problem: how to get out of here.

In all that I'd faced in my life and all the sticky situations in which I'd found myself, I can't say I'd ever once been locked in a ship's brig. Believe it or not, this would be the first time.

Getting out of this scrape would be difficult ... but not impossible.

I pulled a pin from my curls, one of them falling into my eyes, as I moved to the cell door. Pushing my hands through the bars, I inserted the pin into the lock and began to maneuver the wafers contained within.

If my life on the run had taught me anything, it was how to pick a lock.

Just before I heard the familiar click, the door at the top of the stairs- down which I'd just been unceremoniously escorted -creaked open. I quickly pulled the pin from the lock and yanked my hands back through the bars. I pushed the pin back into my curls all the while listening to the creak of each stair as he descended.

Hastily, I leaned back against the black bars, trying my best to look innocent, as his silhouette finally reached the bottom step.

He paused for a moment and I waited with bated breath until, finally, with another creak of weathered wood, a quick stride closed the space between us. He stopped just beyond my cell door, his face still hidden in the shadows.

"Princess." I could almost feel his sneer, rather than see it, as he addressed me.

Though I knew he couldn't see it, I glared at him through the darkness before, eventually, answering in a tone just as menacing. "Captain."

Without warning, a loud and vile laugh sounded and, just as quickly as he had come, he turned to go again. But not in the direction of the stairs. No, he was, instead, striding away from my cell and through the hold. He crossed the narrow space, maneuvering the cargo as though he'd made this same journey a thousand times before.

And, probably, he had.

I knew he had reached the dim torch when I saw the light disappear for but an instant. He pulled it from the wall and, in the fire's illumination, I watched him use it to light a lantern. For a moment, I heard the lantern rather than saw it as he blocked the way. The handle creaked and I heard him begin to whistle as he worked.

Then, finally, the job was done and he returned the torch to its place on the wall. With another groan of the rusted hinge, he lifted the iron handle, turning back toward his prisoner. I saw the gleam of the firelight hitting his hook as he crossed back to my cell.

With the aid of the light, I could now make out his features. He kept his dark hair short, his face unshaven. His eyes were the lightest of his features but even they were menacing in the low light. His lips twisted into a sneer as he grasped one of the bars of my prison in his hook.

"Do you know me, Princess?" his left brow rose as he posed the question.

I simply stared at the man before me. In all honesty, I had to admit him handsome. I had no doubt it was a weapon he wouldn't hesitate to wield. Though, this time, it wouldn't win him the war. He'd soon find me a lot stronger than his usual prey.

I gestured to the silver instrument still resting before me. He met the action with a smile.

"Ah good," he mused. "Then you have heard of me."

His laugh came through the darkness as his hook suddenly scraped across the bars. I cried out, my hands fastening over my ears. When he'd finished, I pulled my hands back tentatively, disgust filling my face.

"Do you know why you're here?" I watched his lips form these words in the shallow light though I only just grasped their meaning.

It was a loaded question; one that could have any number of answers. Why had I been snatched from the forest and dragged aboard a pirate ship?

Let's see. There was the obvious reason. _Princess._ Or that I'd spent the last years on the run, taking what I needed when no one seemed to be looking. But why now? Why snatch me from the forest only now? Why not before?

In answer to his question, I could've offered any number of reasons. Instead, I just shook my head.

He whistled, long and low as though surprised by my answer. "You really don't remember, love? Smee must've hit you harder than I thought. No matter. I wager it'll all come flooding back soon enough."

Suddenly, the lantern swung up to rest against the bars and he leaned in, his whole face now fully illuminated. For the first time, I could see the long scar running the full length of its right side. Absently, I wondered how he'd obtained it. Maybe the same way he'd lost his hand.

"There's a price on your head, love, and it's a treasure I intend to have. But first, an agreement must be reached. Until that's settled, I need to make sure you don't wander off."

He grinned then as his eyes scanned my every inch. Involuntarily, I shuddered, feeling violated for reasons I could not explain.

"I suggest you make yourself comfortable. You're going to be in that cage for a long while."

With one last smirk, he turned and began to stride back toward the stairs. I watched the lantern's fire grow dim as, with each step's creak, he left the brig.

I was slowly plunged into almost darkness once more. With another involuntary shiver, I suddenly felt more alone than ever before.

And then, the creak of the stairs suddenly stilled.

"Welcome aboard the Jolly Roger, Princess," I heard him call.

And with that, the door to the brig fell shut and he was gone.


	2. The Captain's Crew

With a long, loud creak, the door at the top of the stairs opened and, just as suddenly, slammed shut. My eyes flew open. I couldn't even remember having closed them. But I must have. I must've slept for quite some time as I noticed that the crack of light that had once been beside me was now gone. Now only black surrounded me.

Then the creak of the steps began as someone descended into my prison. No, not someone. Two someones. The creaks now came out of sync, sometimes overlapping one another.

I rubbed my eyes, trying to clear my head as I wondered who could be accompanying the captain and why. But as the light of a lantern finally came into view, I realized it wasn't the captain at all.

It was the crew.

The man in front, who held the lantern, stopped at the stair's end. He raised the light, illuminating my cage. The action not only brightened my prison, but it allowed me a look at my visitors.

The man with the lantern was older than the captain though he was also unshaven. He was heavy set and didn't seem to have the captain's same taste in tight leather apparel.

Instead, he wore a tan poet blouse, covered by a striped vest and worn over black trousers. His head was covered by a red knit cap. The man behind him was dressed much the same but he appeared to be caked more heavily with dirt, almost as though he hadn't bathed in weeks.

I wrinkled my nose as I realized he probably hadn't.

"Good. You're awake," the man wearing the red cap mused as he began to cross the hold toward my cell. The man behind laughed raucously, revealing a mouthful of rotted teeth.

I recoiled in disgust as the pair drew nearer. They stopped just outside my cage, the lantern held between them. Their faces loomed before me, leering eerily. The scene was similar to something from a child's nightmare. But I was no child and this was anything but a dream.

As the men looked me over, I remained silent. I glared at the pair, hoping they'd decide to go away and leave me in peace. Instead, they seemed up for a chat.

"Don't you recognize me, sweetheart?" the red capped man asked.

I shook my head.

He tutted and exchanged a glance with his companion. "That's too bad. I'd hoped I'd made something of an impression. I did bring you here."

At his words, something in my brain clicked and I gasped. "Smee," I said in kind of a half whisper as the name slipped from me.

"So I did make an impression," he said with a grin as his companion began to laugh once more. It was a low rough sound, like a hyena.

I only stared at the man called Smee, trying to remember just what the captain had said about him. Although he had only mentioned him in passing, it had been a memorable reference. As the words rushed back, my hand immediately grasped my head as I recalled the mark where he'd hit me. Though I hadn't noticed before, my head now began to throb. It seemed the dull, continuous pain had been there all along, just waiting to be recalled.

Smee's lips pursed in response to my action. "Yes, well, perhaps we didn't get quite the right start. But it had to be done, see." He stared at me with something akin to concern for a long moment before abruptly switching gears.

"Why, I've been so rude, Princess. We haven't even been properly introduced. I'm Mr. Smee, the captain's right hand." Still holding the lantern high, he bowed slightly.

When he'd righted himself, he gestured to his companion. "This is Mason."

The other man only grinned, flashing his rotting teeth once more. I quickly averted my gaze and, for the first time, noticed how much bigger he was than Smee. He towered over the small, portly fellow in a way that made me to wonder if perhaps this Mason was the muscle of the ship.

I gazed first at one man and then the other but still remained silent. Eventually, Smee continued. "We've been sent to give you a message. You are invited to share dinner with the Captain this evening."

The pair grinned at this invitation as though it were the highest compliment I could ever hope to be paid. I barely comprehended their words. Surely this must be some kind of farce.

But by the looks on their faces, I knew it was nothing of the kind. I screamed internally, every ounce of my being disgusted by the prospect of spending the evening so close to their captain. When I could finally manage to speak, my voice, thankfully, remained steady.

"You may give the captain my thanks and tell him I must decline his invitation."

The men didn't move. The smiles froze on their faces and then fell. It was as though my words had sent them both into a state of catatonia. I reasoned that this was either a ship that didn't see many visitors or no one had ever dared to decline an invitation from the captain before.

Whatever the case, neither seemed quite sure just how to respond. Uneasily, they exchanged another glance.

Smee hesitated and then, eventually, spoke, saying carefully, "That is most unwise, Princess."

One of my brows shot up as my arms crossed over my chest. "And why might that be?" I asked, completely unmoved by their shock.

The pair, again, exchanged a look. "You don't want to see the captain when he's angry," was Smee's only reply.

I thought on this for a moment. What did I care if I made the captain angry? What could he possibly do to me? He couldn't kill me. He wanted to sell me to someone for God knows what. He'd already laid all his cards on the table.

Besides, I was already his prisoner. What more could he do?

Still staring at the pair, unmoved, I repeated my original sentiment. "You may tell the captain that I decline his invitation." Unfolding my arms, I crossed the cell. My hands came to rest on the bars as leaned toward the crewmen, my face stopping just inches from theirs. "You may also tell the captain that I do not wish to dine with him in this lifetime or any other. I can think of nothing worse than sharing a meal with that wretched excuse for a man." I stopped then, smirking at their startled faces before adding, "Be sure to tell him that last part especially."

Then I pushed off the bars and backed farther into my cell, my smirk remaining firmly in place.

This time, the glance they exchanged was filled with worry. But when Smee spoke, it seemed he had resigned to his face.

"Very well," he said with once last woeful glance. He turned to his companion and, together, the two men left.

But as they reached the bottom of the rickety staircase, Smee turned back. "I do hope you'll change your mind, Princess, or the consequences may be most severe."

I held his gaze, my smirk having all but gone. He waited a beat then nodded. "Very well," he repeated and then the crewmen left.

After the door slammed behind them, I sighed with relief and slumped back against the bars, oddly glad to be alone again. But my solace was short-lived. It couldn't have been more than ten minutes later when the door creaked open again.

"I've already told you-" I began as who I assumed to be a crewman started down the stairs. But when he reached their end, the words died on my lips.

Standing just across the hold was the captain himself.

Wordlessly he crossed to my prison, his face only partly illuminated by the light of the lantern he carried. He stopped just short of my cage, raising the light so both his face and mine were lighted. Now seeing him clearly, I noted that his jaw was set and his eyes hard, as a fire blazed within them. I wanted to tear my gaze away, to shudder, to recoil. Anything. But I held my ground.

He smirked, looking away from me for a moment before his blue eyes locked onto mine, his gaze penetrating. He laughed without humor before he spoke. "Have I offended you, love?"

He allowed his question to fill the silence between us as he continued to hold my gaze. For a moment neither of us moved and then, with a single step, he drew closer, his expression now close to amusement.

"My crew tells me you do not wish to dine in my quarters this evening. I told them, naturally, they were mistaken. It's a great honor to dine with a captain, as I'm sure you know, Princess. Surely you wouldn't dare refuse me."

My lips still pursed, I raised a brow as I crossed my arms over my chest. Shifting my weight, I leaned heavily on my right leg.

"No, Captain. Your crew is correct. I do not want to dine with you. Not now or ever."

He really and truly smiled then. Had I not already seen his true, menacing nature, I might've considered it warm. He followed it with a laugh, turning his head away, in his amusement. When his eyes finally returned to me, he took another step closer.

"Now that's not very nice," his voice held steady as he cocked his head, raising a brow. "And I had such plans for our dinner conversation. I had assumed you would wish to hear what news I have of your parents but if you don't wish to join me..." he trailed off, his faux disappointment handing in the air between us.

But as his words struck their mark, I was suddenly stilled. What he could he mean by news of my parents? As I stared, dumbfounded, at the pirate, he studied me carefully. It was apparent he had noticed a change in my demeanor as, suddenly, he spoke up.

"How many years has it been since you last saw them? I'd wager you don't often hear news of their well-being. Surely this is an opportunity you won't dare pass up."

Finally able to regain my composure, I glared at him, knowing he had me. I hated myself for even considering it but, at the first mention of my parents, my decision had been made.

"I suppose one meal would be tolerable," I reasoned slowly.

That was, evidently, all the encouragement he required for he smiled then, almost genuinely, as he hung the lantern from his hook and removed a ring of keys from the sash tied round his waist. He inserted it into the lock, twisted and the door to my prison sprang open, at last setting me free.

Though, at this point, freedom from my cramped cell seemed immaterial as I imagined what might be waiting for me once I stepped through the door.

Pulling the lantern from his hook, the captain nodded and turned to lead the way. I trailed behind, following the light and feeling like a lamb being lead to the slaughter.

We climbed the stairs in silence. When we'd reached the top and the Captain pushed open the door, I breathed in the sea air for the first time in what seemed like an eternity.

And as I stepped onto the deck, the captain shifting to reveal his crew assembled there, waiting in a receiving line, I noticed something else. On each side of the Jolly Roger, there was only the deepest, dark water. Land wasn't even in sight. In the time I'd slept, we must've left the harbor. With this knowledge, gone were any chances I'd had of sneaking off the ship under the cover of darkness. For the first time since I'd found myself aboard this ship, I felt truly trapped.

As this realization began to weigh upon me, the captain broke my thoughts.

"This, Princess, is my crew. Mr. Smee, Starkey, my first mate," he began to name them, gesturing as he passed. "Mullins, Cecco, Noodler, Ed Teynte, our quartermaster, Bill Jukes, Black Murphy, Alf Mason, Cookson, Sky-" he paused about halfway down the line as the man he'd been about to introduce suddenly backed into him.

The crewman hadn't even been looking and as the captain passed, he'd bumped his superior's arm. Without warning and with a flash of the captain's hook, the man fell to the deck. My eyes widened and I only just suppressed the scream that had begun to rise in my throat. I quickly glanced at the faces of the other crewmen. They were all staring straight ahead, keeping their stations as one of their own lay dying.

With his hand, the captain flicked the blood from his hook and then gestured vaguely to the body. "Someone clean that up."

Then he turned his attentions back to me. "Come, Princess, I think we've spent long enough with this lot." Without further ado, he began to cross the deck, leading the way to a different set of stairs.

I followed. Though, just for a moment, I glanced back to watch as the crew gathered slowly and began to wrap their fallen comrade for burial.

My heart beat quickened, fear almost overtaking me as I descended into a second pit of darkness after the captain, whose brutality I'd just witnessed once more. I heard the jingle of his key ring as we crossed the narrow hall. He stopped before the fourth door and fumbled with a key before, eventually, managing to insert it into the lock. As the door swung open, he held the lantern out toward me and gestured that I should enter the cramped quarters.

"In there you will find a wardrobe filled with many fine gowns. Please dress for dinner. When you're finished, you will find my cabin at the end of the hall. I'll be waiting." And with one last smirk, he was off.

I watched until the darkness swallowed him whole as I determined that, for now, there was nothing more to do than follow his orders. And so, with a deep breath, I stepped inside the cabin, the door groaning closed behind me.


	3. The Dinner Game

The wardrobe's handle had rusted, probably from lack of use. Violently, I began to shake one of the doors though it stubbornly refused to budge. I glared at the tall, wooden frame thinking it had learned a thing or two from its captain.

I took a step back only to lash out, kicking the door as though hoping that would cause it to open. But, still, it remained firmly shut. This time, as I stepped back, I crossed my arms over my chest and stood glaring at the stupid thing that, once opened, would undoubtedly contain a collection of tulle lined contraptions that I most certainly would never want to wear.

But, then again, he'd mentioned my parents.

My heart ached as I pictured their beautiful faces. It was a luxury I hadn't allowed myself in so long. I wondered if they had missed me as deeply as I had missed them. And what news could the captain have of them? Good news? Or worse- bad news?

In my frustration over these questions, and the dinner I would soon be forced to sit through, I cried out, kicking the wardrobe once more. This time, there was a splintering as the door suddenly swung toward me. I reached out tentatively, not quite believing that had really worked, and pulled the door open all the way. I lifted the lantern from where I'd left it on the small desk and leaned forward, taking a look inside.

They were much less ... _fluffy_ than I'd imagined.

The cupboard contained only five gowns of various colors. They weren't quite ball gowns, I knew that much. They were evening gowns; straight shots of fabric with low necklines. My brow knit as I examined each in turn before selecting the lesser of all evils: the red. As I pulled it from the wardrobe, my nose wrinkled at the prospect of actually wearing it, especially at the captain's command.

But with a loud sigh, I peeled off my trousers, then my blouse and without further ado, pulled the red gown over my head. The instant it was on correctly, it was uncomfortable and, in protest, I pulled at the fabric in various places, wishing it would at least allow me to breathe.

But evidently fighting the dress was a losing battle and eventually I gave up. Lifting the lantern, I pushed open the cabin door and set off down the narrow hall in search of the captain's quarters.

When I reached the hall's end, I hesitated, wondering just why I was here. Why had I obeyed his orders?

Oh right. My parents. I had to remind myself quite constantly, I was doing this for them. For the chance of seeing them; the chance of hearing any news of their well-being. For the chance of, maybe, knowing they were still out there. It was a thought that, if true, made me feel not quite as lonely.

I sighed and, before I could change my mind, rapped my knuckles again the worn wood.

"Come in," I heard him call and wordlessly I pushed the door open.

When I'd stepped into his cabin, and quietly closed the door behind me, he turned. His hand still fumbled with the last button as I noted that he, too, had dressed for dinner. Instead of the black vest he'd worn when he left me, he now wore one of deep red. He had also removed his long overcoat and his hook.

This last one surprised me. I would've thought this occasion more than any would've been a chance to wield it; to use it to remind me just who I was dealing with here.

But, no. It lay on the desk behind him, looking almost harmless.

He surveyed me, grinning, as the button with which he'd been fiddling finally pushed through the hole. Taking a step toward me, he stopped beside a small table nestled in the corner of his cabin. His hand rested on the back of the chair behind which waited as he regarded me.

"You clean up nicely, Princess. I like the red. It's a color I'm rather fond of," he said with a laugh. I only glared at his obvious remark.

"Yeah, we match. I get it. Let's get this over with."

And with that, I pulled out my chair and started to seat myself but not before his handless arm reached out to stop me.

"Now, now. What kind of attitude is that?"

He moved round the table and I shrank back as, with his one hand, he dragged the chair out and gestured that I seat myself. My arms folding over my chest, I only shared at him, thinking that seating myself in that chair was the last thing I wanted to do.

Evidently he sensed this for he sighed loudly and said, "Come Princess, I haven't all night. And we do have much to discuss."

My eyes narrowed as one of his brows raised but rather than argue, I closed the small distance between us and seated in myself in the chair. Wordlessly he smirked as I drew near and, after I had secured myself in the seat, carefully pushed my chair forward toward the empty dinner table.

That's right. Empty. I looked around in confusion, noting the glasses and silverware that had been set out for the meal but food itself was nowhere to be found. My eyes locked onto the captain who now seated himself beside me. When he'd settled into his own seat, he met my gaze and, again, smiled. As I opened my mouth to speak, he lifted a small bell that I hadn't noticed before. He shook it once, allowing one loud ring to sound, before replacing it on the table.

My mouth clamped shut as my brow knit. But before I could even begin to question him, a crewman emerged from a door just beyond our small corner. He carried two plates. The first he stationed before the captain; the second before me. Then he moved just off to the side of our table, waiting as we inspected our meal.

Both my plate and the captain's contained a breast of chicken, a large pile of boiled potatoes and what looked to be a small helping of warmed corn kernels. To me, this seemed an unusual meal to be found on a pirate ship. I reasoned, though, that someone must've bought supplies while the ship had been in port. The delicacies would soon run out and for the rest of my days, I would likely see nothing more than fish soup.

But as, internally, I groaned, my attention turned back to the captain. He seemed pleased with the meal though, when he spoke to his crew member, he didn't show the sentiment. "That will be all, Cookson," he said indifferently and with a wave of his hand, dismissed the man.

Cookson bowed slightly then departed from whence he came. After he had gone, the captain lifted his fork and speared a potato. As he lifted it to his lips, his attention turned to me. He his eyes never left me as he slowly chewed and then swallowed. When this, his first bite, had gone, he leaned forward.

"Eat, Princess. I can assure you, this is the last fine meal you shall see aboard this ship." He leaned back, speared another potato and chewed on it thoughtfully. When he'd, again, swallowed, he added, "It's not poisoned, if that's what's troubling you. As I've said, there's no sense to be killing you."

I gave him a long look, trying to decide whether to fight him on the matter or just give in. Finally, I sighed loudly, deciding that it would be better to eat at least something. My stomach had been rumbling since the crew woke.

Lifting my own fork, I speared a potato as he had done. I stared at it a moment before eventually deciding it looked rather harmless and then, finally, I popped it into my mouth ... and instantly wished I'd done anything else. I made a face as the wretched flavor filled my mouth and invaded my senses. Quickly, I swallowed the bite almost whole, trying desperately to rid myself of the taste. But it lingered on and I was left with no choice but to drop my fork to the table with a clang as I seized the water goblet before me, gulping down as much water as I could stand.

The captain laughed heartily at this display and I glared at him over the rim of my goblet. His brows shot up as he popped another potato into his mouth. While he chewed, he carefully placed his fork next to his plate.

"Forgive me, lass. Forgot to mention: Cookson instead exactly the sea's finest chef. His cooking takes some, well, getting used to. But when you've nothing else to eat..."

He trailed off as he picked up his chicken breast, tearing a large hunk off with his teeth and smirking at me as he chewed. I only continued to glare before I wrested my attention from him and returned it to my own plate. I'd replaced my goblet as he talked and I now started to lift my fork once more but, as my hand moved to hover the instrument, I hesitated, unwilling to again go through what I'd just experienced.

That's when my eyes locked onto the chicken. I decided to try it, reasoning that Cookson couldn't have mangled that too badly. And as much as I hated the thought, the captain was right. I needed to eat something. But not much. Just enough to stay alive.

I flipped the chicken, examining its backside, before I slowly lifted it. But my hands paused on the way to my mouth and the dead thing hung in the air, its skin loosely clinging to the carcass. My stomach turned as I considered it and, finally, as my hands began to move it toward my mouth. When it was just inches from my lips, I quickly dropped it back onto my plate and picked up a knife, cutting off the skin. After I'd flicked the limp hide to the side of my plate, I tried again.

A small bite. That was all I took. But it was enough. The chicken wasn't nearly as awful as the potato but it wasn't much better either. It was dry; all the moisture boiled out. I swallowed hard as I dropped the chicken back onto my plate and reached for the goblet again.

I found the captain watching me with amusement, this time. His raised his own chicken breast to his lips and tore off another hunk, his eyes never leaving me as he chewed. This wasn't just a meal. For him it was dinner and a show.

Returning my goblet to the table, I regarded my plate with disgust. Slowly, I pushed it away knowing I'd never bring myself to eat anything more.

"You said you have news of my parents?" I asked quietly, breaking the silence as I watched him out of the corner of my eye.

The smile had gone from his face but he continued his stare. Abruptly, he dropped the now cleaned chicken carcass onto his plate. It landed with a dull thunk and the captain leaned forward, his brows knitting as he scrutinized me.

"You've hardly touched your dinner. Is the meal not to your liking, Princess?"

I glanced at my plate then back to him saying only, "I'm not hungry."

He smirked, the elbow of his left arm moving to rest on the table as he leaned his chin on the stump where his hand had once been. "Come now. You wouldn't want to injure Cookson's feelings? He worked hard to prepare this meal. He's never served a princess before."

My eyes shot from his face to my plate and back again. Was he really intending to force me to eat this disgusting meal? But then, before I could question it further, he laughed and turned round, grabbing an apple from a bowl on the desk behind him. He turned back and held it out to me.

I started to take it from him but hesitated. He sighed heavily and set it on the table in front of me.

"How many times must I tell you? There's no sense in killing you. Besides, Cookson can't have tainted these. I bought them myself."

Satisfied with this answer and reasoning that if I had to eat something, the apple was better than the food on the plate, I picked up the deep red fruit and took a large bit. It was firm and juicy and, as I swallowed the first bite, I quickly took another. At the taste of something actually worth eating, my stomach remembered its hunger.

The captain watched as I devoured the apple and, clearly contented that I wouldn't starve to death under his watch, reached across the table and took the breast of chicken from my plate. For the first time during our meal, he didn't watch me as he ate. And in silence we each finished our dinner. The second carcass dropped onto his plate and I looked up, watching as he pushed his own plate back to signal that he, too, had finished.

Then he sat back, his hand fiddling with a loose bit of wood on the table's edge.

"I don't often hear news of the royal runaways," he began without warning, not meeting my eyes as he said this. "I don't often make port. Only when we've run low on supplies."

After I carefully placed the core of my apple on my plate, having eaten from it all I would, I turned my attention fully to the captain. But something in his words caused my heart to sink. He rarely set food on land. The Jolly Roger hardly made stops. How long before they would return to land and he would make his deal? How long would I be trapped on this ship with the murderous wretch who sat before me?

His eyes locked onto me and involuntarily I jumped. He continued as though he hadn't noticed. "But as I walked through the village this afternoon, I heard whispers in the marketplace. I couldn't help but listen."

He stopped again, checking to be sure that he had my full attention.

"As you well know, your parents have sought refuge in the woods these last years, living with dwarves or elves or something," here he waved his hookless arm vaguely, "but today I heard this sanctuary has finally met its end."

He leaned toward me, his brows shooting up as he lifted his own water goblet and took a long drink. I waited silently, screaming internally as I desperately waited for an end to the pause. When, after what felt like an eternity, he'd replaced his goblet on the table, he continued.

"It seems your mother was captured. Taken to the castle by the queen's men, from what I could make of the whispers."

These words iced my blood and I could only imagine what the Evil Queen would do with her. But there was something he'd failed to mention.

"And my father?" My voiced cracked as I asked, my mouth having run dry.

The question appeared to confuse him. His brows knit and he cocked his head, looking at me strangely. "He's dead, Princess. You mean you don't remember?"

My eyes widened as I tried, in vain, to process this. I couldn't even think to keep the emotion from my face.

How could my father be dead? And what could he possibly mean by my remembering? I hadn't seen either of my parents in a number of years. When we'd run, it had been separately. It had been safer that way. Or so we'd assumed.

As I tried to make sense of the captain's words, he had watched me carefully. "No. I see you don't remember." His brows knit once more, this time in faux concern. "Sorry, lass. I rather thought you knew."

And suddenly, his mock concern and his attempt at pity were too much. I hated him now more than ever and this time I couldn't push my anger away at the promise of his stories. I jumped up from my chair, striking the table and wildly pushing away from it. The dishes shook and my water goblet tipped over, spilling the few drops that remained. My chair crashed to the floor but I didn't care. I didn't care about any of it. I started to rush from the cabin, not even sure where I was headed. I only knew I had to be away from him.

But his words stopped me just before I reached the door.

"I wouldn't do that, lass."

I whirled, a mixture of anger and hatred threatening to spew as I spat, "And why not?"

He reclined, his amusement returning as he looked away from me and then back again. "Inside the walls of this cabin you are a princess and I will treat you as one but once you leave them, you will be at the mercy of my crew. I can assure you that _I _will not lay a hand upon you but I can't promise the same of them."

I faltered, turning to stare at the door as I made my choice. Behind me I heard the scrape of his chair and as I turned back, he rose.

"There's a good lass. I trust you enjoyed your dinner." He said it as a statement rather than a question and without giving me a chance to reply, he picked up the bell and shook it.

I waited in silence as, an instant later, Cookson reappeared.

"I think we're done here," the captain said with a vague wave of the hand. "You may clear away these dishes but first, take her to the brig."

Cookson nodded and started toward me but the captain held out his hand to stop him.

"Your manners, Princess?" he addressed me with a smirk.

I looked from the captain to the cook and back again, trying to decipher his meaning. He wanted gratitude? For that?

Still staring at me, the captain raised a brow as he reached behind him and seized his hook. With a mechanical click, he secured it back in place- all the while never taking his eyes off me.

My hatred still brimming, I decided it not worth the fight and, with a half bow said, "I thank you, Captain, for the fine meal and you, Cookson, for its preparation."

I glanced at the captain and he, seemingly pleased with this, nodded to Cookson. The cook crossed the cabin and took my arm. As he opened the door, the captain called after us, "Good night, Princess. I trust you'll sleep well."

And with a loud, harsh laugh from Cookson - one that lasted all the way across the ship - I was lead back to my prison.


	4. The Cabin in the Woods

"Come, Princess, the shelter we seek is not far."

I watched the tussle of light brown hair bob along through the trees just ahead. We had been walking for days with few breaks for rest in between. He assured me it was for the best; that to avoid capture, we must keep moving. Rest would come when we reached out destination.

I sighed heavily, hoping he was right. But, at the same time, knowing if I didn't stop now, I would never make it.

"Please," I called, my steps growing slower as he quickly drew on. His energy, at least, seemed never to cease. "Can't we rest for a minute?"

He turned, his brow knit as he considered. I could almost see the wheels turning in his head as he calculated the risks. He opened his mouth to, I presumed, tell me that we must carry on but he hesitated and, with a slight smile said only, "Of course."

Retracing his steps, he stopped just a short distance from me and dropped in front of a tall oak. "Will five minutes be time enough?" he asked as he began to rummage through the pack he carried, finally pulling out an animal bladder.

He offered the water first to me. After shaking my head, he drank deeply. I, still trying to catch my breath, finally managed an answer to his question. "It should," was all I could muster as I, too, sank to the ground, trying to return my breathing to normal.

It wasn't that, physically, I was no match for our long trek. On the contrary, my daily ride had done nothing but prepare me for exactly this type of journey. But everyone requires rest. Well, almost everyone.

After taking another long drink from the bladder, he offered it again. This time, I accepted. I gulped the cool liquid as though I hadn't tasted it in years. In all reality, it felt as though I hadn't.

How long had it been since I'd had my fill of any drink? How long had it been since I'd eaten a proper meal? Only a matter of days? It felt longer. Much longer.

We sat in silence as the minutes ticked by, passing the water back and forth between us until the bladder had run dry. When, at last, he'd drunk the last drop, he rose and looked on down the road.

"The cabin shouldn't be far. I'm to deposit you there and return to one of the guard towers. You will wait four days and then I will return."

He looked down at me, walking over and extending a hand. "Then I'm to take you to safety. You cannot stay in this kingdom. If you do, you will most certainly die. The queen will see to that."

He was blunt. It pleased me. Most were all too careful to tiptoe around my feelings, hoping unpleasant reports would not shatter my fragile spirit. They didn't know it but I was far stronger than they believed. When most looked at me, they saw only a frail princess. They didn't see the warrior hidden within.

I took his hand, allowing him to pull me from the ground. But as I rose, my foot found a rock, loosely buried within the earth and, as my weight bore down on it, the rock broke free. I slipped then, jolting forward toward the dark earth before me. But the collision never came.

Suddenly, I was upright, his hands firmly on my waist. My eyes moved from the ground to his face, my mouth slightly ajar as the scream that had started to escape died on my lips.

Up close, I noticed the things that I hadn't seen from afar. The natural blonde highlights, hidden within his sandy brown locks. The flecks of brown in his deep blue eyes. The way his brow knit as he concentrated and the curl that fell into his face as he held me.

I thought him handsome, in that moment, but, suddenly, the moment was gone. He withdrew his hands, turning from me as he muttered, "Best we press on, Your Highness. Before we lose the light."

Then he started off into the forest. I stood for a moment, my breath coming faster as I, again, tried to still the sharp beating of my heart.

—

We reached the cabin a short while later, just as the forest had begun to grow dim. He stopped, holding out a hand as he ordered me to wait. Then he started up to the small porch while I watched. Carefully, cautiously, he pushed the weathered door open and disappeared inside.

While I waited, my eyes scanned the trees. Now in two separate places, we were doing the same thing: checking to be sure we hadn't been followed; assuring we were safe.

The cabin door creaked open and my eyes locked onto it- onto him -as he waved me inside. I quickly closed the distance between us, pulling down the hood that had covered my golden locks whilst I went.

When I'd reached the cabin and entered, its single room danced before me in the light of the fire he'd evidently just lit. The space was mostly bare save for a small table set in the center of the room and, on opposite walls nestled into the corners, two weathered pallets. It was cozy and quaint but nothing like the kind of luxury I'd grown accustomed to over the last years.

He seemed to realize this for, after closing the door behind me, he looked around almost apologetically. "I know it's not as grand as what you're used to but it should be safe."

I merely nodded as, slowly, I moved toward the table. I dropped onto one of the hard, wooden benches while still taking in the room that surrounded us; the singular room that would serve as my home for the next week. It would be a lonely, solitary existence. One that I was not looking forward to.

As I thought of this, a small sigh escaped me. His eyes quickly darted in my direction and then away again as he busied himself in front of the hearth. He'd apparently lit only enough of a fire to last until I was safely inside. For now, he began to throw extra logs into the flames and at such a rate as though he were trying to create a large enough roar it would last all the time I was to spend alone with it.

The gesture was enough to bring a smile to my face. And almost as though sensing this, he turned.

It caught me off guard, the way the firelight captured his features. I could feel the breath catch in my throat. It was a feeling unlike any I'd ever experienced before. I'd met many a man at the kingdom's balls but never one like this. Never one I'd desired this much before.

The blush crept onto my cheeks and I quickly averted my eyes. But a moment later, almost of their own will, they had locked onto him again. Though, this time, it was he who turned away. His attentions returned to the fire and, when he'd finished with it, he rose and joined me at the table.

"I best be off, Your Highness, before the darkness has overtaken the forest. I'll need to find shelter before the light has gone. Unless there's anything else you require before I go?"

I gazed into his eyes noticing, for the first time, the pain there. He didn't want to go. And, all at once, I realized that I didn't want him to go.

"Stay," I whispered before I could stop myself. Then, realizing my error, I added, "I- I mean-" But the damage had already been done. He smiled warmly, almost amused by my impertinence. It was, after all, a remark greatly out of place for a woman of my rank.

"The forest is a dangerous place in the dark," I added quietly, hoping to at least attempt to correct my error. "You wouldn't want to be caught out there in the dark. Not when there's a hot meal and a warm bed for you here. And you can leave at first light, if you wish."

He stared at me for a long moment, almost as though trying to decide just what to make of me. Then, slowly, he nodded.

I hardly dared to believe he'd been that easily persuaded. But I suppose it wasn't all that shocking. It had been a good suggestion.

We prepared dinner together. He'd killed a rabbit earlier in our journey and he now skinned and cleaned it. He cooked it while I sliced the loaf of bread we'd brought along. From his flask, I poured mead into two goblets and then, we dined.

It was nothing like the meals I'd grown accustomed to in the palace but, as we ate, I found I didn't mind. It was pleasant and, I suspected, not the worst meal I would see before this journey was through.

As we ate, we talked. He asked about my life in the palace and I obliged with stories of how I filled my days. He seemed to enjoy them but I could see the sadness fill his eyes. He kept his distance. I knew the reason: I was a princess. He was only a huntsman.

"I knew your mother," he said abruptly, long after we'd finished our meal.

I cocked my head slightly, a bewildered smile creeping onto my face. "Yes. You lived in her palace. I would've assumed-" But he cut me off.

"No," he said quickly, not quite meeting my gaze. He spoke slowly, as though it took great effort to form the words. "I knew her before she married. During her stepmother's time."

I paused then, not quite grasping his meaning. Regina's time had begun anew. She'd regained her crown. It was the reason we had run. So long as she held power, we would never be safe.

But he seemed to be speaking of something else entirely. I inched my arm toward him, tentatively grasping his hand across the table. "What do you mean?"

As my fingers met his, it seemed to awaken him. His eyes dropped to our hands, now entwined, then snapped onto my face.

"Once, long ago, when your mother was really still just a child, the queen put a price on her head. She sent me into the woods with your mother, demanding that I kill her. But- but I couldn't. She was too kind; too good. I couldn't kill such a creature. Not for one so evil. So I killed a deer instead and took the heart to the queen while your mother escaped into the forest."

I nodded, having heard most of this story before. My parents had never tired of telling about how they'd come to find one another. My mother, especially, was fond of the dwarves. She never ran short on stories of her stay with them.

But why the huntsman would choose to share this now, I couldn't say. Luckily, I needn't ask. He continued without prompting.

"The queen saw through my plot. She- she-"

Here he hesitated, his eyes leaving me once more. I squeezed his hand, my other hand moving to rest on his cheek, forcing him to meet my gaze. "She what?" I asked gently.

"She took my heart," he finished, tonelessly.

The words sent a shiver down my spine. His other hand moved to his cheek, covering the hand I held there. He gently pulled it toward his mouth and lightly kissed my palm. He held our hands there for a long moment, neither of us moving.

When he spoke again, it was quietly. "I haven't felt anything for a long time, Princess. Not pain or sorrow or even," he paused, his eyes locking onto mine, "love."

I was utterly frozen, my eyes wide as he spoke. What could this mean? Without a heart, could he _ever_ love? I knew little of stolen hearts. My knowledge came only from stories. Up until the Queen's return, my parents had had a peaceful reign. Stolen hearts were rare in their kingdom.

But from what I knew, once stolen, the heartless were dangerous. The heart controls the man and whoever possesses the heart has the power of that control. I pulled my hands from his grasp, the weight of his words finally settling. She could be controlling him right now. This could all be a trap.

"She doesn't know I'm here," he said softly, his eyes sad as he continued. "She knew little of the kingdom after she was banished from it. And I wasn't her chief concern. She controlled me only during her first reign. Since her return, I have been forgotten."

"How do I know those are your words?" I questioned as I rose, backing away from him slowly.

"I can't offer you any proof, Princess," he said slowly. "I can only hope that you will trust me. No one knows of my loss; no one but you. You are the only one I've trusted with this secret. And I hope you will trust me in return."

I stopped suddenly, staring at him long and hard. I wanted to believe him. After all, what use would the queen have in telling me of his misfortune? If she were truly in control, wouldn't it be to her advantage to keep me in the dark? If no one knew she possessed his heart, she could have a spy in our world.

But he'd told me. Meaning he was the one in control.

I opened my mouth but closed it a moment later, at a complete loss for words. Until, finally, the three little words for which I'd searched presented themselves. "I believe you."

The change was immediate. His face lit up as he smiled with relief. I couldn't say just what had possessed him to share this information but it had taken everything he had to tell me. And now that he had, it seemed a great weight had been lifted from him.

He rose, closing the space between us. When he was standing before me, he reached out, gently taking one of my hands in his. "I told you only so you would know what a monumental feat it is when I tell you this: I love you, Your Highness."

My eyes widened at his words and as he grinned down at me, I began to back away. "But you don't even know me," I whispered. "We have traveled this forest for a matter of days. That is hardly time enough to fall in love."

His smile was suddenly sad as he stepped back from me, pulling his hand from mine. "No," he answered quietly. "I suppose not. But the time spent watching you in the kingdom from afar has been time enough. Though it seems I have been nothing short of invisible."

My eyes scanned his face, searching for some hint of untruth. But his words appeared to be genuine. It was territory with which I was entirely unfamiliar. In the whole of my twenty years, I had never once been on the receiving end of such a declaration of love.

And while everything in me screamed to leave this be, I knew I could not. Deep down, I knew that all he said he felt for me, I reciprocated. I had felt it too, these last days in the woods. I had felt my heart begin to ache for him; to ache at the thought of our parting. I knew that I could not allow him to go. But, yet, I couldn't allow myself to share with him my own feelings.

I looked away, sighing quietly. "I don't even know what to call you," I whispered, my eyes trained on the wall.

He laughed, quietly, and I could see his grin in my mind's eye. "Graham," I heard him answer. "My name is Graham."

I met his gaze then and found him staring at me curiously as though trying to decide what to make of my question. His eyes, reflected in the firelight, were almost sad and I wished then more than ever that I had the courage to say what I already knew in my heart.

Instead I said only, "You may call me Emma. I've always found 'Your Highness' far too formal." I held his gaze for a moment longer then, finally, turned. "We should sleep. Dawn will come soon and you should rest for your journey."

Then without looking back, I took refuge in my corner, curling up and facing the wall as my silent tears guided me to dreamland.

—

At dawn I awoke as his hand grasped my shoulder. He smiled as he left me and I spent the next week feeling more alone than I had ever been before.

I passed my nights with imaginary conversations. I pictured him there with me. I played and replayed each scenario, trying to decide the best way to tell him. For by the end of the week, I had decided that I did, indeed, love him.

And when he returned, I confessed my love. He was relieved, to say the least and because of my shared feelings, he joined me in hiding. It was only with him that I made it through the next years. It was the only way I was able to survive my life on the run.

It was with him that I planned to build a life when, finally, I would be able to return to my kingdom. Except that day and that life never came.

—

I jolted awake, the smell of the sea and the continuous rock of the ship greeting me immediately. I rubbed my eyes, trying my best to get my bearings in the dim light. It was day. I knew that by the stream of light coming from between the cracks.

Beyond that, I didn't know anything. But, suddenly, it all came flooding back. Dinner the night before. My meal with the captain. The dress I still wore.

But yet, before that, things were still hazy. I still could not remember just how I'd come to be on this boat or even why.

And Graham? What of him. The dream was still fresh in my mind. I could still see his face; smiling at me, kissing my lips, laughing. I reached into the darkness as though, somehow, I could touch him. But, of course, my fingers found only empty air.

"What happened to you?" I whispered into the dark. And then I did what I hadn't in so long. I imagined him there with me. I talked to him. He comforted me. His memory would keep me strong until I saw him again.

I was lost in this fantasy when the door at the top of the stairs creaked open. It silenced me immediately and I shrunk to the back of my prison. A moment later, the captain appeared at the bottom of the steps.

Almost immediately, I was on guard.

His grin was smug when he stopped just beyond the bars, the lantern clutched in his hand as he regarded me. "Princess," he said with a slight nod. "I trust you slept well."

I only glared in response. He shrugged and looked away, his hand readjusting on the lantern's handle before his blue eyes locked back onto me.

"Not that I care one way or the other. If I cared, you wouldn't be sleeping down here." He grinned for a moment, clearly asserting his power.

"What do you want?" I hissed.

He raised a brow, leaning in. "I have something to show you, Princess. Something in which I'm sure you will be most interested."

I rolled my eyes, remembering all too well the places his little "surprises" lead. My heart still stung from the night before; from the news of my father. But I pushed away the thought as the tears threatened to spill again.

"Come now, lass. I can assure you this will be well worth your time."

And this time, without waiting for an answer, he unlocked my cell. As he pulled the door to him, he gestured toward the stairs. Tentatively, I went.

When we reached the deck, the crew was all a twitter, running to and fro as they manned the ship. But as I watched, I realized this wasn't normal. They all seemed... _anxious_.

The captain moved round me, having set the lantern next to the door. Behind his back, he grasped his hook in his hand as he strolled across the deck, evidently unaffected by whatever had caused the stir amongst the crew.

He turned back, an eyebrow rising as he tilted his head, gesturing that I follow. I, doubtfully, obliged. I followed to edge of the deck, watching him carefully as he leaned on the rail.

We were joined almost immediately by the man in the red hat, Mr. Smee. "Captain?" the portly crewman questioned, pushing his glasses up his nose.

The captain didn't look up. Instead he continued to gaze across the sea as he commanded, "Mr. Smee. A report."

"She gains."

The captain grinned, almost delighted as he looked first from Smee to me. As he stared at me, he addressed the crewman once more. "Mr. Smee. Please explain to our esteemed guest what you mean."

Smee hesitated, evidently thinking it a trick question. Finally he sputtered, "Why, her!" and pointed in the direction in which the captain had just been gazing.

I followed his finger and, for the first time, noticed the ship in the distance. And all at once it clicked into place: Why the captain had wanted me to see this. What it could possibly mean. That this ship was gaining.

And then, before I could stop myself, I whispered the one name I had held so dear. The one person I thought I would never see again. The man who would, it seemed, now be my salvation.

"Graham."


	5. Raise the White Flag

My heart beat wildly as I gazed at this new ship, taking in the details of its glorious appearance. A small smile crept onto my lips as I imagined what would surely soon come to pass:

The captain vanquished and my rescue conducted by Graham.

Involuntarily, as I thought of the captain's demise, my eyes moved to the man. To my very great surprise, I found him watching me. And not only that, he was smiling smugly and one brow had risen. It was almost like he waiting for my laughter after finishing a joke.

What did he know that I didn't?

My mind raced as I considered his odd behavior. But I didn't have to wonder long. As I held his gaze, my attention was suddenly averted by the activity directly behind him. And as the pieces clicked into place, my face fell.

"You're lowering the main sail," I nearly whispered.

The captain feigned ignorance. "What's that, Highness?" Leaning in my direction, he turned one ear toward me. "You were saying?"

I quickly regained my composure as my mind raced, considering what this action, on the part of the crew, might mean. Did the captain mean to do battle at sea, hoping to kill Graham in the crossfire? Or worse, allow the crew to board the ship and kill them all in cold blood? I had yet to see the captain in action. I'd, instead, heard endless stories of his conquests. But even the stories weren't clear on how, exactly, he conducted his business. I did know one thing though. You didn't become a pirate captain through mercy.

Straightening to my full height, I met his gaze as I wiped the emotion from my face. "I said that your crew appears to be lowering the mail sail. I would've thought it would be the opposite. Shouldn't they be trying to suck every ounce of wind from the sky during their get away?"

Instead of answering this attack directly, the captain glanced at the other ship, his smile widening, before meeting my gaze once more.

"This man who is, undoubtedly, on his way to rescue you- Graham, I believe you said -he's a sailor?"

I hesitated, my eyes flickering to the ship and back. "No," I replied slowly.

This time, one of the captain's brows rose. "What then? A fisherman? Crewman, perhaps?"

I could feel my face grow hotter as, finally, I answered, "A hunter."

"Ah," the captain's voice betrayed only the slightest hint of emotion. But his eyes, on the other hand, shone with excitement. He turned his back to me and crossed the deck. He stopped at the rail and gazed at the other ship as he continued. "Naturally, I assume he's spent many an hour on a ship."

I hesitated another moment. "Not exactly," I began but then found I didn't have the words to continue.

The captain seemed to realize this. "His first sail," he mused. He glanced at me before adding, "A lad never forgets his first sail."

I could almost feel the menace in his words as I allowed my eyes to return to the other ship. In the time we'd talked, it had moved even closer. For the first time, I could feel the fear creeping into the pit of my stomach and my eyes widened as I watched the other ship begin to hoist a white flag.

As my eyes returned to the captain, I found him studying me. His expression was unreadable. He was calm as he added, "Especially if it turns out to be his last."

The captain smiled then, holding my gaze as he called to the crew, "Drop anchor. Raise the white flag."

His arms disappeared behind his back once more as he strolled leisurely toward me. He stopped by my side, his lips at my ear. "Now, Princess, _we wait_." Then he continued on across the deck.

I know the wait was not long but as I stood watching Graham sail toward his impending doom, it felt like an eternity passed.

The captain returned to my side as the other ship drew up alongside the Jolly Roger.

"Ahoy!" came the cry from across the sea. "I seek an audience with your captain!"

The captain turned to me, smiling smugly, his eyebrows shooting quickly into his hairline and back. "Let the fun begin," he said, the words for me only, before starting across the deck, calling as he went. "Aye, permission granted. Mr. Smee, throw a rope."

As the Jolly Roger's crew prepared for the passenger to board, my eyes scanned the other ship. I studied the man who would soon board the Jolly Roger. I didn't recognize him. In fact, I didn't recognize any of the ship's crew members. My heart raced as I processed this. Maybe Graham wasn't aboard this ship after all. Maybe it was just another ship that had happened by. But to what purpose? And why would they request an audience with the captain?

As I thought on this, the other ship's captain swung across and landed safely on our deck. I watched him shake hands with the Roger's captain and introduce himself as Jack Smith, captain of the Albatross.

Then he gestured toward his ship, pointing to a figure that stood motionless at the edge of the deck. "And my first mate? Permission for him to board as well?"

At this request, the captain glanced in my direction. His grin was too marked for its intention to be mistaken and my eyes immediately locked onto the figure. He wore a dark three cornered hat, a pirate hat, pulled low over his eyes. But as he turned his head ever so slightly, a small tuft of light brown hair was exposed.

I gasped as, simultaneously, the captain responded, "Aye."

The rope was thrown and the figure caught it, pulling it taut to test its strength before he came across. And, still, through all of this, I tried to convince myself that maybe it wasn't him. But as he, too, swung over, his feet landing safely on the deck, my breath caught in my throat.

"Gentlemen, shall we? My cabin is this way."

The captain lead and the pair followed just behind. Though, as they neared, the first mate fell behind and as he passed me, he reached up to readjust his hat, his face finally fully exposed.

And with a large grin, Graham winked at me before disappearing below deck with the captains.

I quickly moved to follow but a hand suddenly blocked my path. I hadn't noticed Mr. Smee move to my side but I now found him smiling widely, a twinkle in his eye as his arm remained firmly against me.

"I'm sorry, Princess. I'm afraid you'll have to wait."

—

At first, Mr. Smee tried to stop me. But as he saw my restlessness continue to grow, he allowed my pacing.

He interjected occasionally, presumably trying to calm me, but it was to no avail. It was only when his eyes focused on something behind me that I stopped and followed his gaze.

The captain had re-emerged. Alone.

"Come, Princess," he gestured with his hook.

Silently, I obeyed.

The corridor was dark as the captain led me toward his cabin. My heart began to race as I attempted to picture what we might find when we reached it. Could he have killed Graham already; silently? And now he intended to show off his prize?

I shuddered at the thought.

The captain, however, had already reached his cabin and he stopped just before the door. He pulled it open, gesturing for me to enter first. I took a deep breath and crossed the threshold...

...only to discover Captain Smith and Graham standing before the captain's desk, alive and well.

My brows knitting in confusion, I turned back to the captain and watched as he moved to stand behind his desk. He gestured toward me as he spoke, though his eyes did not meet mine.

"Captain, this is Emma, the lady in question." It was the first time he'd used my given name. "It will be to her discretion if we take you up on your... _offer_. We are in the midst of returning the lass to her homeland."

His words hit me with a jolt and I worked quickly to digest them as Smith turned to face me.

"Yes, Captain Jones has told me of your plight. How you were lost at sea and found safe passage aboard the Jolly Roger."

This was just too much. My head swiveled from one captain to the other and back again. Why would the captain tell such a tale? And how could Smith pretend to believe him? He had to know me. He had to know how I had really come to be aboard this ship. And, of course, he had to know that the Jolly Roger was one of the most famous pirate ships to ever sail the seven seas.

Didn't he?

When my gaze finally settled on Smith- I fought hard not to look at Graham -I chose my words with great care. "Yes, Captain Jones," I stumbled over the name, "has been very kind. He helped me when I needed it most."

When I'd finished the lie, I shot the captain a withering glare. He merely grinned for a moment, before I turned back to Smith.

"Captain Jones said as much," Smith answered with a slight smile. I suppose that's the very reason he's chosen to leave the decision to you. Madame, will you allow the captain to help us?"

"Help you?" I questioned. "With what, exactly?"

"Blackbeard. We've caught wind that he's sailing in these waters and we mean to stop him but we can't take him on with just one ship. It would mean suicide; certain death for my crew. That's why we hailed the Jolly Roger. With two ships, we're bound to come out on top."

As he finished this explanation, he gave me a meaningful glance. With it, he said that they did know all and to accept this mission would mean my rescue. They couldn't just come aboard and take me. Not aboard a pirate ship, anyway. They'd never have survived. This, they assumed, would be the only way.

I registered this and was about to give my consent when a quiet voice spoke up next to me.

"But it would mean delaying your return home," Graham added. "If you could be spared a little longer, the crew of this ship would be of great service to our cause."

As Graham spoke, I allowed myself to really look at him for the first time since he'd boarded the Jolly Roger. My heart swelled as I studied his bright blue eyes and soft tussled locks. Sometime since he'd entered the captain's quarters, he'd removed his hat. I longed to reach out and touch him. But I refrained and, instead, tore my eyes from him. I turned back to Captain Smith, answering him directly.

"If the Captain agrees, we would be glad to help you on your mission. I can wait to see my home a little longer if it means helping with the capture of such a ruthless and terrible pirate."

Captain Smith smiled, seeming relieved, and nodded slightly, offering his thanks for my selfless behavior.

Then he returned his attention to the captain. I allowed my gaze to move there as well. I found the captain smiling warmly as though amused by a joke he hadn't yet shared with the rest of us.

My own face froze as I began to feel the fear creep once more into my stomach and I wondered again, _what did he know that I didn't?_

"Aye, wonderful. Then it's settled," he mused as he extended his hand toward Smith so that they might shake on it and seal the deal.

Smith accepted the captain's right hand and, when this exchange had ended, the captain added, "Now, shall we see about returning you to your ship so that we might begin to plot our course?"

The Albatross's captain nodded and followed as the captain began to lead the way back to the deck. I moved to fall in line when, suddenly, Graham grabbed my arm, pulling me back for a moment.

"Princess," he whispered quietly, pulling me against his chest. Then, seeming to collect himself, "Emma."

My body jolted at both the sound of my name uttered from his lips and the feel of him so warm and real against me. My answer caught in my throat as I stared into the twin pools of his blue eyes. "Graham," I finally managed, albeit in a course whisper.

He smiled as, suddenly, his hands moved to my face, framing it, as his lips softly met mine. He kissed me quickly, though passionately, before pulling back to rest his forehead against mine, his hands returning to wrap themselves around my waist.

This was, apparently, all the encouragement I needed for it was then that all the words I hadn't been able to say decided to spill from me.

"I thought I'd never see you again! How did you find me? How did you find this ship? How did—"

I could've gone on like this but Graham just laughed and rested single finger on my lips.

"Easy, Emma. I'll answer all your questions but, first, we have to get you away from a certain captain."

I nodded. Of course. He was right. And I could wait a little longer. Already, I felt safer just having him on board. He took my hand in his and pulled me after him out of the captain's quarters and down the long hall.

When we reached its end, he dropped my hand and gave me a slight smile before pushing open the door and strolling out on deck.

And then-

It happened so fast I didn't even have the chance to react.

Where Graham had been just before me as we'd emerged from below deck, he was now gone. And an arm had wrapped itself around my waist, holding me steady.

"Ah, Princess. So glad to have you join us."

I turned to see the captain, his hand still rested on my waist but his eyes were not on me. Instead, they were focused on something in front of us. My eyes instantly moved to follow his gaze. I looked up just in time to see two crew members forcing Graham onto the ground next to Captain Smith. The hands of both men were immediately bound.

"No!"

The anguished cry left me before I'd even realized it had formed and I started to rush across the deck. But the captain's hold was firm and his eyes suddenly flickered to meet mine.

"I don't think so, Princess," he rebuked me quietly, his smirk returning.

"You'll never get away with this," I spat. "The crew will-"

But he cut me off, his brows rising in surprise. "The crew? What crew?"

And before I could even attempt to answer, he swung round, pulling me with him, to gesture, with his hook, to the other ship.

My eyes widened in shock as I whispered another, _no._

Everywhere I looked there were bodies. It seemed they were strewn across each inch of Albatross. And there, cleaning up the mess, was at least half of the Jolly Roger's crew.

So that had been the plan all along: to speak to Smith below deck while the captain's men murdered the other crew. No mercy indeed.

But this suddenly sparked yet another problem. Graham! The captain wouldn't...

"Graham!" I cried, trying to break away from the captain while his guard was down. But the captain, it seemed, never let his guard down. He held me fast, yet again, this time pulling me back against him. His lips found my ear. "Now, now, Princess. No need to fret." I could feel him grin as the sharp bristles on his chin brushes my cheek.

To the crew, he shouted, "Take them to the brig!"

His grip tightened on my waist, his hook moving to caress the length of my cheek as he added, "I'll escort the princess personally."

And then he leaned down, his hot breath tickling my ear as he added, his words just for me, "In due time."


	6. Here There Be Monsters

"You'll never get away with this," I spat, hurling away from the captain the moment he released me.

He didn't answer right away as he slowly cross his cabin to drop into the seat behind his desk. When he'd secured both hand and hook behind his head, he laughed heartily.

"Get away with this? You really don't know much about piracy, do you Princess?" He stopped, pretending to look around his otherwise empty cabin. "I don't exactly see anyone rushing to seize me, do you?"

There was a gleam in his eye as he regarded me. He had me and he knew it. I knew it. Out here, in open waters, pirates lived by their own code. He'd proved that already.

I moved to stand before his desk, lifting a map which I then studied. Suddenly, I felt the fight drain from me as I realized he could easily kill us all and there wasn't a thing we could do to stop him.

All the relief I'd felt at seeing Graham, all the relief at knowing my rescue would soon come - all of it had gone. We had only the captain standing between us and there would be no reasoning with him.

Or would there?

"Just, please, don't kill him," I whispered, my eyes remaining firmly locked on the map.

He didn't answer for a long moment and I thought I could almost feel his smirk when, suddenly, the map disappeared from my hands. I looked up as he snatched it back and found him eying his desk warily.

He returned the map where I'd found it as he said, "Princess, you really don't understand piracy. Of course I'll kill him. He's a prisoner and not one I can count as treasure, like yourself."

I felt the sting of his words as I lost Graham all over again. First I'd thought I would never see him again and now that I had him back, it would be only to lose him again. This time, for good.

I fought to keep the tears from my eyes and the emotion from my voice as I gave him my counter offer. "Kill him and I won't live to see the next morning. And then how will you get your precious gold?"

Where there had, just moments before, been an amused smirk, it suddenly died on his face and the captain rose to his full height. His mouth was set in a firm line, his eyes blazing as he leaned across the desk, his face stopping merely inches from mine.

"Why make empty threats, Princess, when you know you have no intention of keeping them?"

It unnerved me, having his face so near and I fought the urge to recoil, instead holding my ground.

"And what makes you think it's an empty threat?"

At this remark, a bit of the captain's smile returned. "Ah, so your memory still hasn't returned. You don't remember just how I lured you aboard this ship. Well, I wager when you do remember, you'll come to realize that that lad is not a cause worth dying for."

My eyes narrowed as I searched for the meaning in his words. When an answer didn't come immediately, I instead spat, "You make me sick."

His grin only widened as he, apparently sensing himself out of danger, pulled his hand from the top of the desk and dropped back into his seat.

"Sticks and stones, love. Besides, I didn't say _when_ I'd be killing him."

I cocked my head, raising an eyebrow as I considered this. Just what did he mean? He had spared both Graham and the other captain. I had assumed it was because they were the only two who could've given the orders to stop him. I'd thought he meant to kill them later. Now, I wasn't so sure. Did he have some other reason to keep them alive? One he'd yet to reveal?

But by his comment, I was satisfied this meant Graham was safe, at least, for now. And where this thought should have comforted me, it brought only more fear. It meant there would be a time when Graham wouldn't be safe. And that thought frightened me most of all. I started to further question him about his intentions but before I had my chance, he rose.

This time he rounded the desk, moving toward me. "Enough talk, lass. A woman doesn't usually find herself alone in the captain's quarters just for a chat." He grinned as he wrapped an arm around my waist and his hook slipped beneath the sash of the red dress, pulling me into his arms. I had only just prepared to fight when there was a knock upon the door and Smee called, "Captain?"

Clearly disappointed, the captain released me on his own and commanded the crewman to enter.

"We're ready to set sail, Captain. The other crew has been properly disposed and the Albatross is cleaned and ready to be manned."

The captain nodded as he listened to this report. "Good, Smee. Then you are ready to set sail."

Smee nodded and bowed low. "Aye, Captain. We trust you will treat the Roger well in our absence. We will you see in port in a few weeks."

The captain only nodded and wished Smee well before dismissing him. I'd listened to this exchange with wide eyes and, as soon as the door clicked shut behind Smee, rounded on the captain.

"What did you mean by that? Have a safe trip?"

With a smug smile, the captain raised a brow. "Highness, what exactly did you think we were going to do with two ships? Start a fleet? My crew will sail the other one to port and sell it. Then, when it's safe, I will return for them and the Jolly Roger will be once more on its way, free to continue with this, our life of piracy."

I merely gaped at this explanation as I voiced the one question that had already begun to haunt me. "The crew? All of them?"

"Aye, lass, all of them."

"You mean you're going to sail this ship all on your own?"

At this, he looked hurt. "Captain," he pointed out.

I leaned forward slightly and grasped his left sleeve, pulling his arm into view. "But you only have one hand." And then it dawned on me. "That's why you won't be killing them yet."

His face lit up as he pulled free from my grasp and returned to his place behind the desk.

"Now you're getting it."

—

With a deafening clang as the metal polls collided, the door to my prison swung shut. I watched as the captain turned the key, locking me inside. "Home sweet home," I muttered.

He held up the lantern to catch my expression and, at its sight, grinned wickedly.

"Fret not, love. It's not forever. Just until my crew is on its way with the other ship and we have safely set our course." He held the lantern a little higher before adding, "We wouldn't want any attempts to escape, now would we?"

As he said this, his eyes flickered to Graham and Smith, both locked in another cage to my right, before returning his gaze to me. With one last wicked grin, he turned and disappeared up the stairs and out of the brig.

In the darkness, my eyes attempted to scan our small cells as the silence fell heavily upon us. Finally, it was Graham's voice that broke it.

"Emma," he whispered and as the light spilled through the ship's cracks, I could only just make out his silhouette.

"Yes?" I answered just as quietly, moving to lean against the bars that separated us. I could only just see him do the same but when his outline was before me, I found I could feel his presence more than see it.

My hands had grasped the bars and I now felt him peel my fingers from the metal and bury them in his hands.

"I'll get us out of this," he promised. As he did, I could feel the soft smile creep onto my lips as a sudden warmth filled me.

"I know you will," I whispered, squeezing his hands. "But how did you even find me?"

I heard him swallow, hesitating and when, after a few moments, he didn't answer, I added, "Graham?"

But it was Smith who answered me. "It was your mother who sent us. Told us you'd been captured by a pirate and we'd find you somewhere at sea."

I stiffened at his words, recalling the captain's news from the night before.

"You saw her?" It was directed to Graham and I tried desperately to make out his features. Instead, I found only darkness. "She's safe?"

This time, I could almost feel his hesitation. It was Smith who, again, provided the answer.

"Not exactly. It was before her capture. She was desperate that we find you. She wanted only to ensure your safety, even above her own. I doubt her heart will last much longer anyway after your father-"

He broke off abruptly as if realizing he'd said too much. All at once, I realized I didn't want to hear the rest of that sentence. I could finish it myself. Death. After my father's death.

I swallowed hard as I pushed the thought away. There would be time to dwell on my tremendous loss after I was free of this ship. If I allowed myself to grieve now, I would never escape.

Instead, I focused on Smith's other answers. If my mother had warned them both of my capture, she must have been with me when I was taken. But why hadn't Graham told me this? Why had he let Smith provide these answers? My gut tightened and I was suddenly uneasy. Something wasn't right about this.

I squeezed Graham's hands once more before pulling my left loose and pushing it through the bars. With it I found his face and gently brushed his cheek before resting my hand at the base of his neck and pulling him closer.

I pushed my own face slightly through the bars and when we were separated by mere inches, I could make out his features at last. In them, I found the dread I hadn't been able to see before. My eyes searched his until I eventually whispered, "What aren't you telling me?"

This time, it was his eyes that searched mine for a moment until, instead of giving me an answer, he tilted his head to the left and inched his lips toward mine. He kissed me softly, slowly and in this action I could feel his pain. It was the pain of not only our separation but, also, something else. I just didn't know what.

When he pulled away, I was speechless. I still had so many questions but found I didn't have the words to voice them. But it turned out, I didn't have time to search for the words because, at that moment, the door at the top of the stairs creaked open and we heard the captain begin his descent.

With the first creaks of the worn steps, Graham held my gaze and I watched the ghost of a smile appear briefly as he gently released me and disappeared back into the shadows. I barely had time to compose myself before the captain appeared. He moved to unlock my cell first, swinging the door toward him as he gestured that I leave my prison.

When I stepped out and stopped, waiting for him to released Graham and Smith, he sighed. "Not the lot yet, I'm afraid. Just the royal."

And then his hand was on my wrist and he began dragging me away. It happened so fast, I hardly had time to begin my struggle and once I did, it didn't last long. It was only moments later when we reached the stairs and he gave me a slight push up them.

"Move along, Princess. I'll be behind in a moment."

This worried me immediately and so greatly that I instantly stopped my struggle and started up the stairs without a fuss. However, I stopped halfway and strained my ears in hopes I'd discover his reason for going back. But I was met with only silence. And then, just when I'd almost given up, the captain's voice sounded. It was low and menacing but I could hear it clearly.

"I'll warn ye now, boy. This rescue you've attempted will ultimately fail. I'd stop giving her false hope. You know as well as I that when her memories return, she won't leave with you. So why are you still fighting? You've already lost this war. Accept your defeat."

I had frozen upon hearing these words, my mind racing as to their meaning. Because of it, I didn't hear Graham's answer, if he had answered, nor anything more from the captain. It wasn't until I felt the captain's hand on the small of my back and heard his command to move along that I could even begin to regain my senses.

He'd sent me on ahead but, of course, he'd known I would overhear. He'd _wanted_ me to overhear. He'd begun his speech the moment the steps had ceased their creaking. Once again, he held all the cards; he wielded all the power. He knew it and he'd go to any lengths to ensure I did too.

But what had he meant by it? Graham had done something terrible that had been erased from my memory? No, I refused to believe it. Not my Graham. He would never betray me.

But, then, what?

As these thoughts raced through my mind, we reached the top of the stairs and, mechanically, I pushed the door open allowing us both back onto the deck.

—

I stopped just short of the door and the captain moved around me and up to the bridge, taking the steps two at a time.

While he did, I looked around. It took me a moment to realize it but, when I did, I blinked in disbelief. The other ship was gone. I couldn't even find it on the horizon. I turned first one way and then the other, scanning every inch of the vast sea but found only miles of cool, blue ocean.

When at last I whirled to face the captain, I found him beside the helm, gazing at his compass with his brow knit as he undoubtedly attempted to steer us in the right direction. Wherever that may be.

After a moment, he snapped the compass closed, gave the helm one complete turn to the left and then squinted at the horizon.

I found this odd but my questions about the disappearance of the other ship outweighed my wonder at his strange behavior.

"The other ship?" I questioned.

His gaze locked onto me, both eyebrows simultaneously shooting into his hairline as he said, "Aye, what of her?"

"Where is she? I can't even spot her on the horizon," I replied curtly as I gestured behind me toward the open sea.

The captain only smiled, seemingly completely and utterly amused. He looked down at me as he moved to the edge of the bridge and leaned on the rail.

When his eyes again met mine, he said only, "She's gone, Princess."

I glared in response, my voice tight as I said, "Thanks, I can see that. _Where_ has she gone?"

The captain opened his mouth as though to answer but quickly closed it once more. He brought his hand to his face and stroked his chin as he seemed to consider. He smiled without humor and this time, when he looked at me, it was with an edge. All the amusement had left him and if I'd been anyone else witnessing this phenomenon, I might've trembled in terror.

Instead, I held my ground.

"I don't think you want me to answer that, Princess. And if I were you, I wouldn't question the matter further. The other ship is gone and that is all you need know. You seem to forget that I am not a man of mercy. I may be unable to hurt you but you are no longer the only prisoner aboard this ship. And there's no prize for his safe return."

The feeling that washed over me was one I couldn't even begin to describe. For a moment, my blood ran cold as involuntary thoughts of Graham's murder swept through me. But with these images came a surge of hatred. How could this one man hold so much power over us? He no longer had an entire crew at his disposal. As I saw it, he could only promise empty threats; ones he had no hope of ever achieving.

My eyes blazed as I spat, "You. Wouldn't. Dare. You, _Captain,_ seem to forget that you no longer have an army of miscreants to command. The three of us easily outnumber you and we could use it to our advantage, if we saw fit. Then this ship would be at our disposal and we'd be free to return home."

Although my anger staid, his amusement returned. His left brow rose as he grinned, "Yes, Princess, I can just imagine you lost at sea."

But as he said this, I could hear the edge in his voice. He seemed to size me up for a moment before he abruptly descended the stairs- again, taking them two at a time -returning to the deck. He stopped at their end and untied the sash at his waist then tossed me his set of keys.

"Fetch me Smith. I think it's time my fellow captain learned how things operate aboard _my_ ship."

I started to hesitate but, an idea already forming, moved to obey his command. Descending back into the darkness, I tried to guess what he might have up his sleeve.

As I reached the foot of the stairs, and the lantern I had thought to grab illuminated my way, Graham called to me. "Emma? What's happened? Why have you come?"

"He sent me to fetch Captain Smith," I answered whilst I hurried across the brig, fumbling with the keys. "But I have a plan. If we all go, I think we can overpower him. It's three against one. Maybe we can knock him out and drag him down here. Make him the prisoner instead. Then we can sail to the mainland and find my mother."

Both seemed to hesitate as I finally found the right key and shoved it into the lock. It turned almost easily and the door sprang open, freeing them both. "I'm not sure that's such a good idea," Graham said slowly, carefully, almost as though he were dealing with an unruly child.

I couldn't believe it. We had the opportunity to best the captain, why not take it? "And I suppose you have a better plan?"

Graham sighed and stepped out of the cell. He pulled me into his arms and although I was still a little angry, I didn't resist.

"No," he said slowly, framing my face between his hands. "But what makes you so sure the three of us could overpower him? You saw what he did to our crew."

"You mean, what his crew did, not the captain personally," I corrected. But even as I said this, I remembered the crewman he'd murdered right before my very eyes on my first day aboard this ship. "We at least have to try," I added softly but firmly.

Smith now stepped from the cell and interjected for the first time. "The princess is right. We have to try."

Then we watched as he moved past us. Graham took my right hand in his left and after giving it a gentle squeeze, I held the lantern a little higher and we followed Smith up the stairs and back onto the deck.

When the three of us had gathered just past the closing door, we found the captain's back to us as he leaned against the port rail, staring out at the horizon. But when the door swung shut behind us, he turned and regarded us in amusement.

"Well, Princess, I see you brought the whole gang. Aye, the lost princess, the lonely hunter and the mighty navy captain. Come to finish me off? Well, we wouldn't want to waste any time."

And with that he held out both arms, so they were even with his shoulders, inviting us to take our best shot.

But none of us moved. I realized then the fault in our plan. We were unarmed, since he'd taken the swords of both men before locking them in the brig, and at this moment we now lacked the element of surprise. Any head-on attack would be undoubtedly met with the point of his sword. We were ill prepared to take him on and he knew it.

With faux disappointment, he asked, "No takers? Aye, that's too bad, mates. That was the last opportunity you will be given."

I risked a glance at Graham. His hand still held mine but by his expression, his thoughts seemed miles away. My gaze returned to the captain as he spoke again, summoning Smith forward.

"Mr. Smith." The captain tilted his head back, his left brow rising as he appeared to size up the other captain. "Under the present circumstances, it is only fitting to appoint you as my first mate. I'm afraid it's a bit of a demotion but I warrant you shalln't mind as long as it means you will continue breathing."

Smith said nothing as the captain finished and when, after a moment, the silence held, the captain turned his head to the right, his eyes narrowing. "What say ye?"

The new first mate raised himself to his full height and without looking at the captain, gave his "Aye, Captain!"

At this, a smug smile played on the captain's lips and he glanced at me, raising a brow. He began to circle Smith, saying, "Mr. Smith, aboard this ship, you are to refer to me as only Captain or _the_ captain. You will follow each and every order without question. I am your master and I can make your time of service very, very painful if I so choose."

Here, the captain stopped. He stood behind Smith and glanced at me as he said, "Is this understood?"

As he waited for an answer, his gaze still held mine but now, he bore a positively wicked grin. My brows knit as I watched, wondering what to make of this display. And then Smith opened his mouth and had only just begun his "aye" when the captain whirled and with a gleam, raised his hook. Smith immediately fell.

Simultaneously, I heard a scream and it took a moment before I realized it had come from me. As I'd uttered it, I had also attempted to run to the aid of our fallen comrade but I now found Graham's arms locked around me, preventing my flight. He held me fast as the captain regarded us in utter delight. But we were too caught up in our grief to notice.

The red pool had already begun to spread across the deck, slowly blossoming to fill each space and flow to every corner. Smith had fallen forward but slumped sideways and he now lay facing us. He had gasped for a few moments after hitting the deck but he had since been still for several moments. The red line on his neck had parted and now lay open and gaping, almost as though he possessed a second mouth.

I found the scene horrifying but I couldn't seem to tear my eyes away.

It wasn't until the captain stood at my side that I noticed his presence. He had wrapped his hand round his hook and was slowly pulling his hand toward its tip as he cleaned the blade. When he'd finished this, he moved his hand to my waist, resting it firmly on my stomach.

He leaned toward me and spoke quietly but still loudly enough for Graham to hear as well. "If I were you lot, I'd start cleaning that up before it really spreads. Bloody difficult if you let it get too far."

Then, with a smile, he straightened and dragged his hand across my stomach as he began to walk away. I shuddered involuntarily as, even after his hand had gone, I could still feel it.

Once behind us, he raised his voice as though calling to a crew of fifty men rather than just us two. "Princess, swab the deck. I want it so clean, I can see my reflection.

"Boy, in light of the recent demise of my former first mate, the job is now yours. Keep watch on the sails and see to it we don't veer off course. We have a lot of sea to cover in a short while."

For a moment, my grief was left at bay and my eyes widened at his words. His strange behavior suddenly made sense. And as this became clear, the words left my mouth before I could even begin to stop them.

"We're not following the other ship. We're not going to port."

Although I couldn't see the captain, I knew he had moved to stand behind me even before he spoke. I could even picture his smug smile and, as I did, a chill ran down my spine.

"Ah, wonderful. You've got the idea, Princess. Good."

And then the feeling was gone. He'd retreated once more and when he spoke again, it was from farther behind us, his voice raised once more to address his "large" crew.

"I'm off to sleep. And before either of you get any mutinous ideas into your head, I'll be locking my cabin whilst I dream. Wake me if there's trouble." We heard the door open but instead of another creak, signaling its close, he seemed to pause.

"If there's not, I'll be back in a few hours and I expect to find my ship in top shape. If I don't, well, I won't tell you the consequences."

We could hear his dark and hollow laugh even after the door had banged shut, causing us both to jump.

I shivered again and Graham held me tighter as, together, we just stood there, staring out into the bright blue sea as Smith's now lifeless eyes continued to watch over the two trapped comrades he'd only just left behind.


End file.
